


Peace in the form Books and Cups

by ScarJones



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Elizabeth the cafe owner ships it, Good Peter, M/M, Original Character(s), Peter is the Vodka Aunt at christmas, Stiles is stable, They both deserve happiness, allison is alive, chris is done with pack shit, elizabeth sets him up with peter, just so tired, let's just pretend Season 3b onwards didn't happen, or tries to, peter didn't betray the pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8295068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarJones/pseuds/ScarJones
Summary: Chris is done with everything, frequents a little 24h book-cafe to feed his coffee addiction. Peter works the night shift.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own Teen Wolf or any of the characters, other than my OC Elizabeth whom i love.  
> Not beta'd. all mistakes are my own.

If you asked Chris what he did in his down time he'd probably sound like the most normal man. So incredibly boring was his down life that even his daughter thought he should get out more.

There's nothing wrong with reading a little in your spare time. That's what he told her, he even suggested her doing it herself.

But if there was nothing wrong with it, why did he always look around him before entering the hole in the wall cafe? simple. He wanted it all to himself. He didn't want any of the kids to ruin the sanctity of the place.

It was a dimly lit little thing, tables strewn across the room, unique chairs to each of them and the odd bean bag or two in the darkest of corners. Bookcases filled to the brim lined almost every wall. Elizabeth knew what her customers would want. She knew the students would end up falling asleep so provided the bean bags. She knew that the brightness of day annoyed, so she hung dark curtains. She knew her customers. She knew Chris.

She knew he would always go straight to the shelves, pick a random book, and set himself on this little window shelf in the darkest of areas. She knew he would always order a straight black coffee with a couple of chicken and bacon sandwiches. She knew the time he would enter, almost to the second every time. She knew he was single.

It's an odd thing for someone older than Gerard to be trying to set him up. it's like his grandmother trying to set him up. But it's never different. It's always the same person. It's always Pete, the night shift worker, if you could even call him that.

Apparently, she almost had to close down because her night-shift workers came and went so frequently that she had to close in the evening. this lost her a lot of customers, mostly students trying to cram last minute revision in. Then this Pete guy turned up out of the blue, ordered a coffee and helped her out when she struggled. He became a regular, always giving a helping hand when it got busy, expecting nothing in return, refusing any money she offered him for his help. A good Samaritan. With a pretty face, or so Elizabeth says.

She spoke for a good half an hour once about how handsome this Pete was, how dapper and charming he was. She spoke of his sharp cheekbones and his jawline. She spoke about his soft, perfect hair. She spoke about his eyes and how they were like cavansite crystals. She spoke about the loneliness that was in them.

Chris wasn't sure if she did this to anyone else - he suspected not - and he wasn't sure why she thought he would be a good match for such a helpful, genuinely kind man. then again, she didn't know him, really know him. She didn't know he was a killer with a code. She didn't know he hunted and helped werewolves. She didn't know. but he let her have her fun anyway, playfully refusing the set up so he did not offend her. She had good intentions after all.

He shook his head, realising he already had a book in his hand and was sitting in his usual little window alcove seat, His coffee and sandwiches at the end.

He blinks. how did she do that. His hunter instincts would've, and should've, kicked in well before she got even close. but they didn't. Maybe he needed to sleep more, this exhaustion wasn't doing him any good. and she said as much when she walked by a few minutes later.

He can't actually remember the last time he slept more than a fleeting hour or two. Beacon Hills was living up to its name. 2 werewolf packs and a coven of witches had found their way to Beacon hills.

This meant he had one teenager or another accosting him via text or the traditional knock on your door until you answer. it was usually stiles who wanted to run some potential solutions by him as he was the only one that seemed to take the boy seriously... well, kind of. Stiles had a brilliant mind, but also an incredibly weird personality that seems to override his intellect in some peoples eyes.

5 minutes passed and Chris had pretty much inhaled his coffee and had started nibbling on his food. He hasn't had much of an appetite recently, but heaven forbid him not eating whilst Elizabeth is watching him. she would scald him like a schoolboy if he didn't eat.He briefly wondered if this what having a normal mother, in a normal family was like.

An hour passed, his food gone and a second coffee in his hand, Chris started to feel more relaxed. It was Saturday so not as busy, which suited him fine. He was quite enjoying reading a dusty old book about a detective and a serial killer. They danced around each other, their minds so similar and yet their personalities clashing at every given moment. the dynamic felt familiar to Chris, though he couldn't put is finger on why.

Chris returned the book to its rightful shelf, and sat back down just relaxing, sipping on his lukewarm coffee. Elizabeth took this as an invitation for conversation. Chris welcomed the mundane distraction from his thoughts, still fixated on the dynamic of the two characters.

She chattered quietly about how she was hoping she could renovate soon, to make it appeal to new customers. he shook his head, eyebrows furrowing together. It was perfect as it was, it didn't need changing. He told her such. smiling kindly, she squeezed his shoulder softly, thanking him for being sweet. She spoke about her worry about Pete leaving, about how, if he did, she would likely have to rely on the daytime customers once again. Chris reassured her that if Pete was still there, then he wasn't going to leave anytime soon. He seemed to good to do that. he seemed oh so perfect, even the cynical side of Chris didn't think Pete would leave.

He didn't say much else, she didn't seem to mind. she spoke about her life, as she often did. About how it was so amazingly different these days, compared to the time she grew up in. She took pride in every student that entered the cafe. She said they were brilliant and talented and dedicated. Going to university despite its downfalls. despite the debt they were undoubtedly in. She liked how they were committed to making a better life for themselves. She loved how despite the little they had, they always seemed to try hard to tip well. By the end of the topic, Chris was starting to feel so much more proud of his daughter than he was before. Elizabeth had a way of making everyone grateful for every little thing.

The peacefulness of the afternoon didn't last long though. it was broken by the vibration of his phone in his pocket, accompanied by a single tone. A specific tone. one he set up for the pack of teenagers, for supernatural emergencies; because they never contacted him when it wasn't an emergency, thank god!

The text was simple. "It's Allison. We need your help. quick." Sent from Scott's phone, he knew there was something bad going on.

He leapt up, snatching his discarded jacket, and weaved through the cafe to the door. He left with a quick bye and a wave to Elizabeth, leaving $20 at his table, an almost $15 tip.

She stood with a frown on her aged face, watching him leave. He was too overworked, always came in looking like he had been beat 6 ways from Sunday, albeit not physically, Physically, he was fine, healthy even, especially for a man with a teenage daughter. Mentally, emotionally though, was a different matter. tiredness was an ever present emotion in his eyes. It was the kind not of lack of sleep, though that did factor in, but that of just being done with life.

Elizabeth hoped the poor man would just settle down and find himself someone. Someone kind, calming but strong, passionate. Someone that would give back the shit Chris gave but know when he just needed peace. In her eyes, he needed Pete.

She sighed, a sad smile on her face and continued on with her day, sparing a thought for the silver eyed man.


End file.
